


The Odd and Old Ways

by silver_drip



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, James Potter Lives, Lily Evans Potter Lives, Magical Dudley Dursley, Runes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2019-08-18 19:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16522892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip/pseuds/silver_drip
Summary: Harry disappears at the age of five from the Dursley's and then reappears five years later on the other side of Britain with gold eyes and wandless magic.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

Harry was not as old as the numbers of fingers on his left hand, but not by much. It was silly. He couldn’t count past three, but he knew his left from right.

He only knew right from left because Aunt ‘Tuni didn’t like it when he put the bowls in the cabinet to the left of the sink rather than the right. And he knew the number three because that’s how many plates should be on the table.

Harry did know what the other numbers looked like, but not how to say them. Dudders had thrown a book at Harry with all the numbers in it. Dudders and his parents didn’t notice that Harry had hidden it away in his cupboard.

At his age of above three, but less than all the fingers on one hand, Harry was a very busy boy. He was never sure when he fell asleep, but was woken every morning by his uncle toddling down the stairs, each step a crash of thunder. He never heard his aunt though—until she slid the bolt open to his cupboard then it was, “Wake up, you ungrateful wretch!” The same words every time followed by any combination of orders.

Harry went through making breakfast in a haze. He was too short to reach the counters or stove so he constantly had to move a wooden stool around the kitchen to just get the utensils—He dragged the splintering steps once and received a firm shaking for ‘scratching the floor’.

He made breakfast, mouth watering bacon and sausage for Dudders and Uncle Vernon with toast sopped in butter. Juicy fruit diced into uniform pieces with a side of thick vanilla yogurt for Aunt ‘Tuni.

And Harry had his own decadent breakfast, one he imagined while scrubbing dishes, clumps of fat clinging onto his skin in the tepid soap water, his fingers pruning as he clutched onto the metal scrubber. It was nearly up to his elbows. Then the inevitable splash of dishes dropped into the water by his aunt. He always made sure to keep his eyes closed when that happened, not wanting the soap to sting his eyes again.

Then it was one impossible task after another, cleaning between the slats of wooden floor with a toothpick, pushing a vacuum that was taller than him, trying to prune roses with sheers he could barely lift.

It was another hot summer day. Outside was sweltering, but there he had a chance to drink from the spigot. Inside the house was pleasantly cool, but he wasn’t allowed even a sip of water under Aunt ‘Tuni’s watchful eyes.

There was one thing about being outside that Harry liked, but dared not even think of it. He was already called freak enough as is. If the Durseys found out…

He was forced, though he put up no fight, to work in the garden. Today he was going to eat. But first he’d have to wait for his aunt to stop watching him. He wasn’t sure how he knew she was watching him. But it was an instinct that he trusted wholeheartedly.

It only took her fifteen minutes to lose interest. Harry carefully went behind the shed where all the gardening equipment and other knickknacks were held. He hissed out a, “Hello,” and was greeted by three different snakes.

Each one was carrying a squirming rat.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, his stomach clenching in anticipation.

More snakes appeared, but carried nothing.

“Speaker,” Meeko, the oldest of the brown snakes said, “we bring offerings and hope for your blessing in return.”

“May your knowledge overflow, prey cross your paths, and life lived many years,” he recited. There were hisses of pleasure, scales quivering, snakes coiling as a faint light enveloped them. Harry didn’t understand why it made them so happy. He only knew about the promise from a traveling snake whose name he couldn’t remember. He was just happy that it made the snakes his friends and more likely to help him.

Harry wasted no time digging up the little pocket knife behind the shed. It was in a little baggy. Beside it was another baggy of wetwipes that he had carefully collected to clean up with later on.

He took a squirming rat from the first snake and expertly killed and cleaned it. He held the meat in his hands, concentrating hard. Soon the rat was cooked, smelling like a feast. Harry ate slowly, savoring every bite. Tears escaped his eyes, gratitude warming him. Best of all there were two more rats waiting for him.

He let the cleaned bones down and just like the snakes had done to the rat’s innards and fur, they ate it to leave no trace behind.

Before he could start on the second rat another snake appeared carrying a plant in its mouth. It dropped it before Harry. “An herb, speaker.” It bobbed its head at him and slithered backwards respectfully. Harry reached out and touched the snake, repeating the blessing again, his throat feeling tight.

He loved the snakes beyond measure, and if being able to talk to them made him a freak, then so be it.

*

Sirius was a rare type of pureblooded wizard. He was actually interested in the muggle world. The only other person like him was Arthur Weasely. The pair weren’t exactly friends. In fact, Sirius had no friends. Well, he _had_ friends—past tense. He didn’t have any now.

Remus had run tail between legs from Britain when he learned of Peter’s betrayal, unable handle it. Sirius barely heard a word from him, but the yearly slip of a letter thanking Sirius for funding his wolfsbane potions. As much as that rankled Sirius, he didn’t stop giving what was more or less an allowance to the grown man.

It was strange that Remus had been the mature one growing up, yet refused to face one friend’s betrayal when he could have stayed and been with two friends.

And James Potter… Sirius always thought Lily would be the voice of reason, and yet…

Sirius gathered up two newspapers, off to do his Sunday evening ritual. He checked his appearance as he passed a mirror and found everything to be in order. Reaching the floo he called out, “St Mungos”.

It was easy to find his way to the Janus Thickery Ward. No one stopped him, though Sirius did pause to flirt with a mediwitch. It was idle banter though. Despite his cousin Dromeda’s nagging he didn’t want to settle down.

In the ward he found Alice and Frank Longbottom, faces slack and eyes unseeing. Sirius was already hardened his heart to the sight. On the nightstand between them was fresh flowers and a tin with Sirius’ name on it. He opened the tin and ate one of the biscuits from it. A gift from Augusta Longbottom. She called it a bribe and he didn’t try to argue with her.

Sirius settled next to Frank, opening up the Daily Prophet. It was a bunch of rubbish, but he read it aloud from front to back.

“Bloody runes puzzle.” Sirius folded the newspaper so that the puzzle was face up. He placed it in Frank’s lap, trying not to remember how he once finished them with glee. Now he didn’t even notice it. One of the attendants stopped by to give him tea. “Thanks love,” he said softly.

Sirius took a moment to enjoy his tea, his eyes flitting around idly. A scribbled drawing in crayon. His heart ached. He knew it was made by little Neville, but he couldn’t help thinking of another little boy.

And it also made his anger flare.

Such a noxious combination that he felt even now. He was so angry at James and Lily. Sirius was supposed to be Harry’s godparent, the one to watch over him. Instead the pair decided to dump Harry who knows where. Their logic was shite and the only reason he ever talked to James was because he was a fellow Auror.

It was a job he held more out of spite than an actual desire to hunt down the idiot muggle-baiters and dark artifacts. He made sure James saw him, saw the hate, and how he could so easily put an end to it by just bringing Harry back.

Sirius set aside his half-finished tea and picked up the second newspaper he’d brought, a muggle one.

“You’ll like this one, Alice,” he said goodheartedly. “A muggle grew a radish that is bigger than your head!” He chuckled.

Sirius continued through the paper, peppering it with anecdotes and dry observations.

But it was on the third page that he felt the air knocked out of him.

**Child from Surrey Still Missing**

He scanned the article, every breath feeling tighter than the last. It was Harry, his little pup.

He stood and apparated in one motion.

Appearing in front of Lily and James’ home, he was prepared to destroy any wards that surrounded the place, but with a sneer realized they were still attuned to him. A house elf opened the front door, greeting Sirius. It was smart enough to move out of his way when it saw the look on his face.

It wasn’t hard to find James. He was eating lunch with Lily. The pair looked up at him with wide eyes. James stood—and was properly knocked to the ground by a swift sucker punch. James had sent Harry to the muggles, Sirius was going to do this the muggle way.

Sirius knocked the wand out of Lily’s hand and punched her in the stomach, fair was fair after all. This was half her fault. His fury was still pulled to James though. He’d been his best mate and felt even more betrayed than with Peter.

He stomped on James’ wand arm. He felt it give under his foot.

The beating went on, a red haze, until Lily tackled him to the side. She was shouting at him. He didn’t listen. He shoved her off and grabbed the newspaper he’d dropped at some point. Wands were pointed at him, but he didn’t care. He shoved the article into James’ blood mug.

“This is what you did! If you didn’t think you couldn’t protect Harry, then you should have given him to me!” And tears were in Sirius’ eyes, but he didn’t care. All his anger had been spent, leaving only sadness and fear. “You did this!”

James took the paper, reading it, eyes hurrying across the page.

Lily grabbed her wand, holding it in a white knuckled grip. She didn’t turn her attention away from Sirius. “James?” she asked.

He took in a shaky breath, wounds forgotten. “Lily-flower, Harry’s missing.”

Her concentration was broken. “What?”

“Vernon is dead and Harry’s missing.” He handed the paper to Lily. “I’m going to gather some Aurors and Dumbledore.” He disapparated.

Lily’s breathing started to quicken, hands trembling.

“Where in Surrey? I need to start looking.” She didn’t seem to hear him. “Lily!” She flinched bodily.

She held out her arm wordlessly, tears in her eyes. He grabbed it, side-along-apparating to a neighborhood with tiny houses that he knew weren’t bigger on the inside. They were uniform in an unnatural way. Beige, white, and occasionally pale blue. Grass strangely short and plants more for beauty than function. He’d been in muggle neighborhoods before, but those had felt alive. This one felt cold.

This time, Lily grabbed his arm, pulling him through wards that would have otherwise chewed him up and spit him out. Lily didn’t bother knocking, unlocking the door with a wordless spell. He followed Lily down the too clean hallway until they reached a living room.

“You!” a shrill voice screeched. A bird like woman stood. Though he knew she was Lily’s sister he found that hard to believe. The pair looked completely different at first, but then he noticed they were both skinny. Unhealthily skinny. “This is your freak’s fault!” She jumped Lily, her claw like fingers dug into Lily’s neck, a child started crying in the background.

Sirius perked up, leaving the sisters to themselves. He found the child and he deflated. This fat child, this butterball was not Harry. It took less than a second for him to ascertain that. He wished he had a calming draught so he could properly question the child.

He left the round thing, going back to Lily and her sister.

The pair was perfectly still, Lily peering into Petunia’s eyes unwaveringly. Illegal legilimens, not that Sirius would report her. He would have done it if Lily hadn’t beaten him to it.

Lily broke away, dropping to her hands and knees and vomiting all over Petunia’s feet.

Petunia shrieked, stumbling backwards and into a wall, knocking down a pastel painting. “Filthy animal! Get out! Get out!”

Lily stood, her face chalky with a sheen of sweat over it. She raised her wand, **_Avada_** _—_ Sirius didn’t let her finish the unforgivable spell. He pulled her away, trying to save her from going to Azkaban. Even Lily didn’t deserve that.

She broke down in his arms, a sobbing mess. Dread settled in Sirius chest. Petunia was still shouting, moving to threats. She made to a phone, but Sirius stunned her. “Get it together, Lily. Where is Harry?”

“I don’t—I don’t know!” she sobbed, clutching at him painfully. “Merlin, they abused him! They starved and beat him!” Sirius froze. “And a bloody snake—some giant constrictor killed Vernon and probably killed and ate Harry!”

The butterball came in, blubbering as he spotted his mother. “Mum! Mum, where’s daddy?” He asked the question over and over, shaking her unconscious form.

Sirius wasn’t going to waste any time comforting Lily. He had to find Harry. “Which one is Harry’s room?” That only made Lily weep harder. He shook her. “Which one, Lily!”

She pointed to the stairs. He headed towards them, but when he took the first step up, Lily made another noise. “No, no below the stairs, in the cupboard.”

Sirius clenched his teeth and nearly shattered them when he saw an array of locks on the tiny cupboard door. With he flick of his wand the door flew off its hinges and embedded it in the far wall.

The faint scent of piss hit him when he got on his hands and knees to get in. A jar of urine pushed to the side. A blanket so thin it was sheer, a pile of grey and brown clothes balled up in a facsimile of a pillow, and a single book—bright colored with large font. And there was a bare lightbulb hanging down, blown and unable to light up the cross of a dungeon and coffin, yet worse in many ways.

He emptied the cupboard frantically, searching for one wit of happiness, something to prove this was all some joke, some sick joke, but now he understood why she’d vomited. He was dangerously close to doing the same.

He hadn’t heard Lily sitting by the cupboard, crying silently and clutching her wand to her chest. Sirius ignored her.

He took in a deep breath and cost a spell, **_Point me Harry!_** But his wand didn’t even twitch. That meant nothing, or at least he hoped he was just too far away for it to work.

He turned towards the strewn guts of the cupboard.

**_Curare Harry!_ **

But none of the items lit up. They were the things that made up Harry’s room. But Harry didn’t hold any of the items dear enough for him to leave a mark.

**_Curare Harry!_ **

**_Curare Harry!_ **

**_Curare Harry!_ **

But nothing glowed with warmth—there was nothing that warmed Harry’s heart in this hell house.

“Try the garden,” Lily whispered, her eyes locked on to the blanket. He heard others arrived and recognized James’ voice. He ignored them.

The garden was beautiful, yet looked like it hadn’t been cared for in a week—the exact amount of time Harry had been gone.

He pointed at the shed, **_Curare Harry!_** Nothing.

He broke open the shed and tried to spell on the equipment in there. Nothing.

Desperation clutched him. He threw the spell around at everything he saw, unconcerned for any muggle that might see him.

And finally, just the barest glimmer, a patch of dirt behind the shed. He nearly wept. He touched the dirt with one hand and balanced his wand on the palm of his other hand. **_Curare ad cor!_**

His wand twitched, but gave him no direction. The air was punched out of him and he heard hollowed words of comfort from one of his fellow Aurors. He tried again and again with the same results.

Sirius only stopped when Dumbledore gently pulled him back, “Let me try, my boy.” His words were soft. Sirius looked at him with tear blurred eyes. He stumbled backwards as Dumbledore sat down. He hmm-ed and hummed. Sirius nearly tackled him when he dug into the dirt, but then Dumbledore found something. Two things.

Dumbledore said softly, but with power, **_Curare Harry._** The bagged, folded knife lit up and so did Sirius. Others gathered around them, bated breath. Dumbledore held the knife in one hand and his wand on his palm.

**_Curare ad cor._ **

His wand jerked to the left—then to the right, every movement a flicker of hope. But then it started spinning in all and no direction. Minutes passed, hope dying.

With the care and heart Harry had placed in that little knife, the powerful tracking spell should have easily pointed them in Harry’s direction, no matter how far, but it didn’t.

No one wanted Dumbledore to stop the spell, but it had been too long. He was the strongest wizard in Britain and debatably the world. But the spell was leading them nowhere.

 ** _Finite incantatum._** His wand stilled and there was more than one stifled sob.

Because the only reason the spell wouldn’t point the way was if his heart was gone, dead, and no longer recognizable.


	2. Chapter 2

Lily wasn’t sure if her exile was self-imposed or pressure from other people. On her darker days she felt like she deserved it. The idea to send Harry to her sister’s had been Lily’s. James was initially against it, but Lily convinced him. Lily and James couldn’t protect him on their own. That had been made clear when He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named had attacked. The wards on the Potter’s different homes were weak and old. They had contemplated hiring someone to update them, but were unable to trust anyone after what Peter had done.

They should have sent him to live with Sirius, or at least moved into one of the Black family estates, but once again the scar Peter left wouldn’t let them trust Sirius. His whole family had been on the side of the dark. It wasn’t hard to imagine him following in their footsteps. What’s more is that it had been his idea to make Peter the secret keeper. That would have been an easy way to throw them off his trail.

And Peter was still out there, a constant threat on the horizon. They had acted on their fear and now Harry was gone.

Half the time Lily couldn’t look at James. Their little Harry had looked just like him in Petunia’s memories. But so thin and eyes hollow.

But where Lily wanted to check-out of reality, James clung to her tighter. He spent less and less time as an Auror, instead staying home and talking about the ‘good times’ in Hogwarts. She hated how he never acknowledged how they had a son and lost him—Though on some level that was a relief. Acknowledging him would mean believing Harry was really gone, that they’d sent him to be tortured then killed. Their little boy. He’d been hurt so many times yet had pushed through, the only light in that cursed house. But he’d shined too brightly and had lost his life because of it.

Some days she blamed Voldemort. He was a parselmouth. Even if he was gone his commands could have lived on. Was it really so farfetched that he’d used his snakes to look for Harry when he was hunting them down? An old order to capture or kill him?

But that was merely Lily trying to push the blame on someone else when it solely rested at her feet.

Many days she took out the swiss army knife that Harry had cared for. Why he’d felt connected to it was a mystery Lily didn’t want to contemplate. When she preformed the tracking spell on the knife, it barely made her wand twitch. It had been five years already.

So Lily folded in on herself. Part of her wanted to leave James and start somewhere new, but then she’d be all alone with her thoughts. Instead, she sat quietly every day, staring out the window and clutching a knife that had meant more to her son than anything else.

*

Sirius was contemplating asking Amelia Bones to marry him. She was higher up on the food chain in the DMLE. Such relationships between commanders and subordinates were frowned upon, but that didn’t stop them. She also had ten years on him, not that he minded

Sirius never thought he’d ever be attracted to such a strict person, but he did enjoy being bossed around a little bit. They balanced each other. His carefree attitude mixed with his more… capricious would put off many people, but not Amelia.  

They hadn’t had any time to spend together in the past few months. A pack of werewolves were capturing people and changing them only to set them loose on muggle towns. The case was already out of hand. Everyone was working overtime and Sirius was grateful that he had plenty of practice getting little to no sleep. It didn’t affect him nearly as much as some of his fellow Aurors.

It was two days till the next full moon and the DMLE couldn’t be tenser. They’d narrowed down the location of the werewolves to three forests. Three forest steeped in magic with enough creatures to make any search bordering on fatal.

And of the three Sirius was being sent to the most dangerous one, Magenta Forest. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He wanted to put an end to this before more people could be hurt. He was the best one for the job, having far more experience with werewolves than anyone else—save perhaps James, but the bloke had all but quit.

He’d been chosen to lead his group of three because he was an Animagus. Better yet a dog who knew the scent of werewolf.

Soon enough they were setting out. He had Paul Redapple and Basil Snortles with him. Paul was his senior, but was fine with Sirius taking command in this mission. Basil was a bit shifty, but that was more because they were going to a dark forest. Basil had gone to Dumstrungs where one of their requirements for graduating was to survive a week in a treacherous mountain forest where deadly creatures abounded. Sirius had heard horror stories about the test and was doubly glad he’d gone to Hogwarts.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, they used a portkey to travel to just outside of Magenta Forest. Sirius could practically feel a miasma of sticky magic coming from it. Basil shuddered at the onslaught.

Sirius made eye contact with the other Aurors. They nodded at him with him, shoring up for whatever was to come.

The air seemed to grow thicker with every step they took. The reasoning behind why it was called Magenta Forest because clear an hour in. It didn’t matter where they were looking, their peripheral vision only saw magenta. It was a dangerous phenomenon, limiting their sight.

Despite the tense situation, it felt good to be in his animal form again. His senses had changed, eyesight becoming black and white while his hearing and smelling ability over compensated for it.

In his dog form he also had the persistent urge to take off running. He felt the need to burn off energy. He held back, remembering that they were there for a reason.

Without his wand at the ready he felt vulnerable, but he had to trust his fellow Aurors.

They’d run across a myriad of magical creatures and plants, but no werewolves or prisoners. It was near midday that Sirius picked up on a strange scent. He perked up. He turned to look at Paul and Basil, jerking his head to put them on high alert.

The scent was on the wind, making it harder to track. The scent was at the whim of the air. Sirius couldn’t afford to lose it. His movements became faster, but still cautious.

Sirius couldn’t quite describe the scent. It was human, but with something else mixed in. Not the usual wet and dirty smell of a werewolf, but something possibly just as dangerous.

He picked up on a winding trail. The undergrowth didn’t look disturbed, but he trusted his nose. Paul and Basil were making too much noise for Sirius’ liking. He had to keep reminding himself that they were bipedals. In the distance he spotted someone. Their body was covered from the neck down by a bush. They were short and facing their direction, but their face was obscured by shadows. His fellow Aurors saw the figure too. Wordlessly, Paul and Basil went to flank the person while Sirius trotted up to him still in his dog form.

The closer he got the odder the scent became. It had an unnatural tang, like poison or a sickness. The person’s head was ducked, picking berries. Sirius made an inquiring noise, a cross between a huff and bark.

Gold eyes met Sirius’ black ones. Both froze. It was Harry, it had to be Harry, but his eyes were all wrong. Harry looked at him with concentration then cocked his head. He shifted, but Sirius couldn’t see him through the bush. “Walk as a wizard.”

Sirius lurched to the side. His body moved without his consent, transforming him back into his natural state. He blinked in surprise. “Stop!” he shouted at Paul and Basil before they could cast stunners. “Harry, is that you?”

“Blimey,” Basil whispered from far to their left.

The young boy gave him a discerning look.

“Harry Potter?” His scar was there, and he was a spitting image of James when he was younger, save the long and dirty hair. And those haunting eyes.

“Harry’s my given name. Who are you?” He had a slight accent that Sirius couldn’t put a name to. Sirius realized that there was no way Harry would remember him, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“It’s me Sirius Black. I’m your godfather.” Sirius tried to keep his breathing even. “I’m so sorry—Your parents left you with the Dursleys. I was against it. I fought for you to live with me, but they wouldn’t listen.” Old pain flared in his chest. Anger at Lily and James, guilt for not doing more, and anguish for all the pain Harry had been through. “I’m sorry, Harry. You have to believe me.” Tears ran down Sirius’ face. He wanted to pull Harry into his arms and make sure this wasn’t some delusion brought on by a curse.

Harry was unreadable. He looked around. “Who’s with you?”

“It’s alright, boys,” Sirius called out, not looking away from Harry. He wiped away his tears despite more replacing them. “How are you alive, Harry? We all thought a snake ate you.”

Harry looked at him like he wasn’t making any sense. “Why would a snake eat me? That’s silly.”

Paul and Basil made their way towards Harry from opposite directions. Basil had wide eyes while Paul kept looking around for an attack. Paul cast a diagnostic spell to see if they were under a spell. Sirius wasn’t the only one to notice Paul’s spell. Harry took a few steps back, looking like he was ready to bolt.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s okay,” Sirius said softly. He shot a glare at Paul.

“Sorry,” Paul mimicked, putting his wand away and raising his hands to show they were empty. Basil did the same. He diverted his path to stand by Sirius and Basil followed suit.

“How did you get here, Harry? Surrey is on the other side of Britain.”

Harry raised his chin, looking confused rather than arrogant. “Why are you in my forest? Your friends are outsiders.” That begged the question of why Sirius didn’t fall into that category. He held back that question though.

“We’re trying to find some werewolves that have been changing people and attacking muggles.”

“None of the ‘wolves do that here.” So there were some here. And Harry knew them. Sirius gut clenched. What if Harry was a werewolf? He didn’t smell like one, but that could mean all sorts of things. “Those two have no other business here. It’s better if they leave.”

“We still need to talk to them. You might think they’re not involved, but they could be hiding that fact,” Basil said in a soft and imploring voice. It didn’t look like Harry was going to bolt, but they couldn’t be sure.

Sirius rounded the bush Harry was behind. He was wearing fine boots, dirty clothes, and had an open knapsack with berries and other things forged from the forest. But no wand. How and what spell he’d cast on Sirius were questions for later. At Harry’s neck there was a slight movement, but when Sirius looked closer there was nothing there.

“Is it alright if I talk to them, Harry?” He kept saying his name, as if reassuring himself this was really the little boy he’d lost—that the whole wizarding world lost. “My colleagues can leave if you’d like.”

Harry’s nose twitched. “Fine.”

“Sirius,” Basil went to say, but Sirius just shook his head. No matter the cost, he couldn’t chance losing Harry again.

“Go. Report to Bones. Don’t talk to anyone else.” He shot them warning looks. Basil pulled out the portkey. He and Paul were gone a moment later.

The tension in Harry’s shoulders eased slightly. Wordlessly he headed south. Sirius noticed that he barely made a sound as he walked. It was unnerving.

“What have you been doing all this time?” Sirius asked, trying to get him talking.

Harry shrugged. “Growing like a weed, Mo says.” His grin was a tiny thing, more like Lily’s than James’ unbound one. Or at least it used to be wide and carefree before everything went wrong.

“Is Mo your friend?” Or were they the one who had kept Harry secret all this time?

Harry glanced at him. “Mo is Mo.” He shrugged. “You knew my parents?” His use of past tense made Sirius curious on what those wretched Dursleys had told him about his parents.

“Real pair of idiots, those two. They’re still alive, but…” He wasn’t sure what else to say about them. He hadn’t meant to badmouth them, he just held so much anger towards them. “They should have never sent you to the Dursleys.” Harry shrugged, his expression unreadable. “How are you alive? This forest is dangerous.”

“The forest is only dangerous if I wander too far.” Harry pointed high at a tree. Sirius peered through the thick foliage. There was something carved into one of the branches, but it was obscured by leaves. “If I’d been further away I would have noticed you and your friends.” He was frowning at the ground. “Mo isn’t going to be happy.” He pouted. “You have to tell her I spotted you first.”

“Anything you want, Harry.” Sirius’ concern only grew.

“Where’s your wand?” And how did he get his hand on one?

Harry scrunched his nose up. “No wand.”

Sirius didn’t know how to respond to that. He felt the spiderweb like drag of protective wards. They weren’t pushing him away, despite him being a stranger. “Where are we heading?”

“Home. Four-Banks and Steadfast live across from me.” He smiled genuinely and put his hand in the knapsack. “Marisella’s birthday is this week. I was gathering berries to dye a dress for her.”

“There’s a spell for that.” Sirius smiled. “I can dye it for you.” He patted the pocket where his wand was stored.

“No wands,” Harry repeated. Was he leading Sirius to some sort of luddite-magic group? They used wards, but were opposed to wands?

“We thought you were dead. I never gave up hope. I should have kept looking.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Harry picked up the pace, laying the discussion to rest.

The farther they went the more wards he felt, dragging on him and making each footstep heavier than the last. Harry appeared unaffected.

Dirt paths appeared then turned into cobbled roads. Slowly a town appeared. The buildings were made from all sorts of materials: thatch, brick, scrap metal—everyone unlike each other. People were milling about, dressed oddly. There were also as many eclectic animals as humans. The towns people only gave Sirius a passing look, suspicious at first then a second later accepting.

“Bashmu!” a little girl who couldn’t be older than seven called out from the stoop of a leaning, wooden house. “Mo canceled lessons on my birthday! We’re all going to have a party instead!” She bounced over to Harry, smiling with gap teeth. “She’s making cake!”

“She doesn’t even cancel class on my name-day! So unfair!” Despite his words he was smiling. From his knapsack he pulled a glittering rock. “For your collection.” Marisella squeaked with happiness. “I need to talk to your parents. Can you send them to my house?” Marisella nodded vigorously without looking away from the rock. Belatedly, Sirius realized that her teeth were rather pointed. “Go on then,” Harry urged. She disappeared into the tilted house.

Harry moved across the way and into a home made out of treated leather and animal bones. Sirius had to duck at the doorway. It was pitch black inside. He moved to cast **_lumos_** , but there was a strange noise and the area lit up. The inside was far larger than the outside. There were many hides being tanned on racks, a loom, and spools of thread. In a copper tub there was a large fluff of untreated wool. Jars were shelved on the far wall with unidentified bits and bobbles in them. In a corner was a small, but curious bed. There were two other doors, but they were closed.

“I make clothes in my spare time,” Harry answered before Sirius could ask.

He led Sirius through one of the doors into an unmistakable kitchen. He pulled out four porcelain teacups. He filled two and left they other pair empty. Sirius sipped at the motley colored drink and cringed. It was spicy, but bearable.

“Who lives with you? Mo?”

Harry chuckled. “I lived with Mo for a few years, but I’m an adult now. My neighbors helped me build this.” Sirius had no idea how a ten-year-old could be an adult, but he didn’t question it.

Two more people joined them. Sirius went ridged, fighting back the urge to pull out his wand. The pair—Four-Banks and Steadfast—were half transformed werewolves. But they were smiling at Harry, and he was smiling back.

“You know you could have just come in,” the female of the pair said. She was a hulking thing, arms thick and face covered in course hair. In comparison the male was almost petite, yet far bigger than Sirius.

Harry let out chuff. “Right, as if you didn’t try to bite my head off the last time, Steadfast.”

“Enough with the titles. You know we’re practically family.” She pulled Harry into a hug. Sirius throat tightened. She looked like she could squish him with the slightest of movements. And she claimed to be the family that Sirius should have been to Harry.

Harry pried himself free. “As it were, this serious man is looking for some werewolves that have been hurting people. I said it wasn’t you, but he didn’t believe me.”

“Ah, yes, my name is Sirius Black. Are you aware of any werewolves in this forest that are changing people?” He was feeling oddly wrong-footed.

Steadfast furrowed her bushy brow. Four-Banks had pulled a clay carafe down and was pouring water in the two other teacups. “We don’t get out much,” Four-Banks answered while handing Steadfast one of the drinks. “Mari is too much of a handful.”

“Understatement,” Steadfast said into her cup, her lips twitching up into a smile. Four-Banks rolled his eyes at her. “It will be a full moon in a couple of days.” She looked at Four-Banks. “If we can get Mo to watch Marisella, we can take a look around. It’s been ages since we ran together.”

“Mari will whine. You know how she likes riding on my back.” Four-Banks smiled softly. “I’ll stay, you go.” The pair nodded in unison. He looked at Sirius. “You should come back the day after the full moon. We’ll let you know then.”

But that wasn’t good enough. Sirius needed to know before there would be another attack. “The Aurors will continue their search till then. We can’t let anyone else get hurt.”

“You work for the Brit Ministry, aye? Any reforms on werewolf laws in the last decade?” There was hope in Steadfast’s eyes.

“Sadly no. Not enough voice on the matter.” Sirius sipped his drink. “It hasn’t gotten worse though.”

“Figures.” Steadfast finished his drink. The pair said their goodbyes, leaving Harry and Sirius alone again.

“You have to comeback with me, Harry. All of wizarding Britain mourned when we thought you died. I—I need to give you everything the Dursleys took away.”

“Why would I leave? My home’s here.” Harry brushed his hair to the side. Once again Sirius thought he saw something slithering on Harry’s neck, but it was just a glimpse.

“There’s more to the world than this place. You’re almost eleven. You should be getting ready to go to Hogwarts, not—” He bit his tongue, keeping himself from speaking ill of the place Harry considered home. “They’re people outside this forest that love and miss you.”

“I’ve always said I’d explore…” Harry shrugged. “I’ll think about it and have an answer for you when you come back.” Harry turned away from him in a wordless dismissal.

Sirius swallowed over a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, pup. I promise I’ll make it up to you if you just give me a chance.”

“Your words don’t mean much to me,” Harry whispered. Sirius flinched, but didn’t give up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit ahead so I've made the decision not to post until I finish writing a later on chapter, since I usually have the bad habit of catching up with myself :P

* * *

 

Sirius was a fidgeting mess. He couldn’t sit still or concentrate on anything. He wanted to see Harry right away, but knew he had to wait. Harry had set down the terms and Sirius could only follow them if he wanted any chance to be a part of his life.

Sirius was still puzzling how Harry had known he was human in his dog form, and even more amazingly he shifted him back with no wand. He knew that after he and the other two Aurors had made their report that the Unspeakables had taken up the case. That gave him a bad feeling, but there was nothing he could do about it.

James and Lily hadn’t been informed yet. They wouldn’t be until Harry’s identity had been confirmed. In a vindictive sort of way, Sirius was happy about that. They’d abandoned Harry to monsters. They had no claim over him. It also gave Sirius time to petition the courts for him to get full custody of Harry if he chose to come back. He wasn’t sure how well that would go over with Harry though. He claimed to be an adult despite being ten. Sirius could cater to that, considering he doubted he’d ever be able to deny the boy’s whims.

Sirius was in Diagon Alley with Amelia and her niece, Susan Bones. To Amelia’s amusement, Sirius was trying to figure out what children Susan’s age liked to do and get. He wanted to rain down gifts on Harry for a decade of missed birthdays and holidays, but was concerned he’d somehow offend him. Especially since he’d been opposed to the one thing every ten-year-old was dying to get their hands onto: a wand.

After a long day of shopping, dotted with an ice cream stop and Susan spending nearly an hour at the bookshop, Sirius had gathered a small offering. He’d gotten exploding snaps and a tailor’s mannequin that changed to the size of the person who activated it. He hoped the variety would show Harry that he was trying.

Amelia was amused by his fretting. He couldn’t really blame her for that. He was usually so suave that he was probably making a sight of himself. At the last moment he insisted they stop at a sweets store. Sirius bought a myriad of different candies. Amelia outright laughed at him.

*

The Rita Skeeter story had the Wizarding world of Britain in an uproar.

**Boy-Who-Lived Lives Again!**

The sensational title of her article was posted on the front page of the Daily Prophet.

Lily’s hands shook as she read the two-page spread. Her heart was beating at the speed of hummingbird wings by the end of it. She moved like a ghost to James’ room. She didn’t bother knocking. He was still asleep despite it being half past ten.

“James,” she said while shaking his shoulders.

He groaned before looking at her. His eyes widened, and he sat up, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong, Lily-flower?” As he spoke he pulled her into a hug.

She was shaking, and her breathing was speeding up. “He’s alive, James. Harry’s alive.”

James froze. “It was just a dream. We’ve talked about this, remember?” He rubbed her back, his heart breaking all over again. Lily pulled away from him and he sighed.

“No, you don’t understand.” Lily gave him the newspaper, reminiscent of Sirius doing the same thing all those years ago on that dreadful day.

Lily watched his expression carefully. He was impassive. “You can’t believe anything Skeeter writes. She’s just baiting—”

“You don’t know that!” Lily put her hand over her mouth after shouting. Her shoulders slumped and her hand dropped. “I just… What if she’s telling the truth?”

“We’ll go—” A toddler crying in the distance cut them off. “We can’t take Euphy with us. Skeeter and her cronies will no doubt have flooded the entrance to the Ministry.”

Lily nodded, despite the urge to find out the truth as soon as possible. But after everything that went wrong with Harry, they’d promised to do better by Euphemia. Their two-year-old daughter had only made it into the Daily Prophet twice. The first time as an announcement of her birth. The second time a day later with a scathing review on how the Potters had let the Boy-Who-Lived be killed and shouldn’t be allowed to risk another child.

“You go. You know the Ministry better than I do, and Sirius…” He’d been mentioned as the one who found Harry. New guilt settled in Lily’s soul. They’d given up on searching for Harry, but Sirius never did. Merlin, she was a terrible mother.

James kissed Lily on the cheek. “Have some tea. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Lily nodded slightly before going to see what was wrong with Euphy. The toddler’s room was between James’ and Lily’s rooms. Euphy’s cries petered off the second she saw Lily. “Mum!” She held out her little arms.

Lily scooped up the little girl, hugging her. She didn’t let Euphy see her cry.

*

Luck was on Sirius’ side for once. He’d been making himself a cuppa when James had stormed into the DMLE, looking for answers. Sirius hid himself in Paul’s office, much to his fellow Auror’s amusement.

“Damn Skeeter,” he mumbled. No one was supposed to know about Harry but the ones that encountered him and higher up Ministry officials. “Damn the Ministry.” The Daily Prophet was a state-run newspaper. He had no doubt that they’d sanctioned the article. Everyone must have seen his Pensieve memory by now. He’d been against extracting it, but they’d demanded he at least give the memory of his interrogation of the werewolves. It was an official procedure that was mostly ignored, but they were happy to invoke it when it suited them. “Poor Amelia. James is probably being a blighter to her.”

“ _Madam Bones_ ,” Paul emphasized her title, “can handle herself.” Sirius handed over his untouched drink. “Is this a bribe?”

“Of course not! You’re my best mate. I don’t need to bribe you to draw Potter’s attention so I can get out of here.”

Paul rolled his eyes at the ‘best mate’ part. They were work friends at best, but Sirius wasn’t opposed to a bit of embellishing when it suited him.

Paul took a sip of the tea. “Passable.” He stood. “Potter does have a few reports I’m waiting on.” He straightened his robes.  

“You’re a unicorn among horses,” Sirius said. It was a compliment, but usually reserved for the fairer sex.

Paul rolled his eyes, but helped Sirius none the less.

*

Sirius apparated outside of the wards of the town in Magenta Forest. He’d been sure to memorize the spot before he’d used the portkey after his first visit. He’d waited as long as Harry had told him, and not a second more.

The wards let him pass with a great bit of resistance, but he pushed through. He reverted to his natural form when he hit the cobbled road. As he went on he thought he must have had a mix up. The road was nearly empty—and not just empty of people. The many houses and buildings that had flanked the road were gone, leaving naked dirt patches and stone foundations in their wake. The few people he saw scowled at him.

His throat got tight and he picked up his pace. If Harry was gone… Sirius wasn’t sure what he’d do.

He let out a breath of relief. Harry’s house was still there, even if the werewolves’ titled house was gone. He knocked on Harry’s door, trying not to seem eager.

The door opened on its own, not an uncommon sight in a wizard’s residence. “We’re in the kitchen,” Harry called out. Sirius’ tense shoulders slumped as he smiled and walked faster to see him.

Harry and Steadfast were sitting across from each other, picking at a large bowl of nuts and berries. He joined them at the table. He was once again amazed as Harry wandlessly summoned a teacup. He poured the same drink as before for Sirius

“Thank you, Harry. Ms. Steadfast, any news?”

“Aye, Mr. Black,” Sirius was startled by the term, used to either the title of Auror or Lord, but didn’t let it show. “There were traces of a large pack of ‘wolves and humans in the South-East corner of the forest, but they’ve been gone for at least two moons.”

Sirius nodded. “We’ll send Aurors there.” The last night of the full moon this month had nearly been a bloodbath. Thankfully the Aurors were able to evacuate the small town fast. The few prisoners they’d been able to take were just the people who’d been changed against their will. More than one had begged to be killed after realizing what they’d done while transformed. “The trackers might find something.”

“Trackers?” Steadfast snorted and stood. She mussed Harry’s tangles of hair. “I’ll give Mari your regards. She loves her new dress.”

“I’m sorry for everything. It’s not right—”

“No one blames you, Harry.” She shot a glare at Sirius. “We should have known that him being one of us meant much of nothing. He doesn’t know our ways.”

Sirius wanted to ask what she meant, but she left before he could.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked hesitantly.

“Outsiders have been trying to sneak pass the wards. We don’t like that.”

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.” Was that why there was hardly anyone around?

“We know. _I_ know.”

That sat in silence that Sirius wasn’t sure how to break. He sipped at the spicy drink as Harry looked into the distance.

After a few minutes Sirius cleared his throat. Harry looked at him. “Have you made up your mind if you’re coming back with me? We can go all over the world, if you like—And you don’t have to attend Hogwarts if you don’t want to—It’s the wizarding school I went to, best in Britain—” He would have continued rambling on like a fool if Harry hadn’t stopped him.

“School?” Sirius couldn’t read Harry’s expression.

“All witches and wizards begin their magical schooling at age eleven. There are four separate houses at Hogwarts. The one you’re sorted into becomes like a second family.” Sirius grinned even though it was bittersweet. A lot good those people did for him. The only family he had left was Dromeda, her kid, and now Harry. “No one will make you do anything with me around.”

Harry smiled. It was larger than the few he’d seen him sport before. He wanted to see his godson smile like that more often.

“No one can make me do anything anymore,” he said with absolute confidence. Sirius hoped he was right.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius is seriously nervous. (lol)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick update! You can blame the 3 day weekend ;)

* * *

 

A letter with the emblem of the Wizengamont and one from Dumbledore were dropped on the Potter kitchen table merely a second before a third owl came in. It dropped the newspaper on top of the two letters.

The air was punched out of James as he read the headliner.

**Potter No Longer!**

_In a midnight session of the Wizengamont the return of the Boy-Who-Lived status was discussed. As many of my readers know Harry was thought to be dead for just over five years as a result of his parents’ Mister and Misses Potter’s mishandling of him. The young wizard was sent as an infant to live with abusive muggle relatives instead of having a proper upbringing. These muggles tortured him daily until he mysteriously disappeared. We all thought he was dead, or at least that’s what Chief Warlock Dimbledore had us believe!_

_But Lord Sirius Black, Auror Second Class, never gave up hope. He found Harry in Magenta Forest! With this turn of events he petitioned the Wizengamont for full custody of Harry! Chief Warlock Dimbledore made an impressive speech, begging the twenty-eight hereditary seats and five elected seats to vote against Lord Black’s proposal. His words were unheeded due to his once again damaged reputation._

_Voting was convened at two in the morning with six votes against and twenty-seven for. Most notably of the ones against it were Lord Thomas Gaunt, Lord Arthur Weasely, and Lady Molly Weasely nee Prewitt. Misses Andromeda Tonks nee Black voted for the change, using the Black family seat since Lord Black was unable to vote on his own case._

_Harry has been renamed Harry Black, heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House Black._

_One has to wonder if this will lead to Lord Black petitioning for guardianship over the other and lesser mentioned Potter child, Euphemia. The two-year-old is just a few months older than Harry when he was condemned to live with muggles. (Cont. Page 3)_

“You look like you’ve seen a Boggart,” Lily said from the other side of the table. Euphy was sitting on her lap.

James didn’t know what to say. Instead, he handed her the paper and opened the letter from Dumbledore. It was condolences wrapped up in pretty words and apologies. He tossed the letter onto the middle of the table before reading the one from the Wizengamont. It told him the same story, but without the bias Skeeter’s was drenched in. The other three that had been opposed to Harry being taken away from his parents were all elected seats. Distantly James promised to financially support them when reelection came around.

Lily stifled a sob. “They can’t—” her voice broke, “can’t take him away or Euphy.” She held their confused little girl tighter.

“They can’t—I won’t let them! Pack your things, dear. You two need to go into hiding to be on the safe side. I’ll talk to Sirius. We may have had our differences, but he has to—” James took in a sharp breath. “Just go. I’ll figure something out.”

“Because hiding worked out for us so well last time.” Lily’s sarcasm was marred by grief. Euphy began crying and asking what was wrong. Lily held her tighter.

“Lily-flower…”

“This is all my fault, James. I’m sorry.”

James shook his head. “We’ve had this discussion. What’s done is done.” He went over to their side of the table and kissed Lily then enveloped the pair in a hug.

*

Harry’s nose was scrunched up. Sirius resisted the urge to fiddle with his wand. Harry was staring at Sirius’ house, not 12 Grimmauld Place. He’d burned his ancestral home down with fiend-fire, with everything (excluding that crouched house elf, the library, and a few photos and paintings) in it. Burning it had been a catharsis. In that moment he had mourned the loss of his little brother. He’d never had a chance to do that during the war—not without risking people doubting his loyalties.

Now Harry was eyeing critically the home Sirius had built on land he’d purchased shortly after. In truth, it was a mess of a house—Half had been built in a rage at Lily and James giving Harry away. He’d done more physical labor in his life during those six months than the rest of his life combined. Some part of him died then. When his rage simmered out into bitterness he slowed down, took a step back and focused on creating something rather than trying to destroy a part of himself. From an angry foundation sprung a beautiful home.

Finally, Harry spoke, “I like the stone beasts.” Harry pointed as the gargoyles. “A wampus cat, nundu, basalisk, griffin, and,” he grinned, “a vipertooth.”

“You know your magical creatures. Did you read about them in a book?” He tugged at the thread, trying to start a conversation.

Harry looked up at him, looking like a child for once. “I can’t read.” Sirius’ eyes went wide. There was a beat of silence then Harry started cracking up. “I’m kidding! Growing up in the forest doesn’t mean I’m a barbarian.”

Sirius shook his head with a small grin. He opened the front door while measuring his words. “How did you end up in Magenta Forest?”

Harry paused. “I wasn’t… keen on eating from trash bins. I followed the food. I had to hide. If they found me…” He didn’t have to fill in the rest. Damn those Dursleys.

Vogo the house elf appeared before them. Unlike most house elfs this one wore proper clothes—not because he was free, rather he just had good taste. Or so he claimed. Sirius would more accurately describe his clothes as an exercise in blinding onlookers with gaudy colors. Coupled with the fact the shades tended to move around like a lava lamp, it was downright dizzying. Vogo prided himself in how he looked so Sirius held his tongue.

Vogo bowed to them. “Greetings young Master Black. I is Vogo. Would yous like me to take your baggen?”

Harry handed over the bag to Vogo. “Thank you, Vogo.” He bowed in return, making Vogo’s wrinkled face stretch into a smile.

Sirius melted. Harry had accepted his new last name without protest. “Would you like the grand tour?” Harry nodded, his strange eyes already taking in the foyer.

The tour was a bit awkward, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. There had been two memorable bits, though. When they’d reached the kitchen Harry had opened every cabinet and the icebox. He proceeded to examine each piece of food and drink. Sirius was glad he had the forethought to stock up.

Thankfully, Harry didn’t do the same when they reached the library. Instead, he walked around the room, fingers gliding over bookspines. At random he would pull out a book and put it on a side table next to a comfortable reading chair.

Distantly, Sirius wondered if he should have put the darker books somewhere else.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2011 laptop-> slow update

* * *

 

Curiosity burned Sirius up on the inside. But he was an adult and he could stifle his questions without going mad—or at least that’s what he told himself. It was the second day (not yet 24 hours) of living together when he found Harry sleeping on the hearth by a lit fire. Sirius bit his tongue. There was a number that wasn’t making any sense to him. It was supposed to be ten, but as he counted the toes on Harry’s feet it came to the number seven. Only seven toes. What happened to the other three felt like it would be a sensitive topic—one that would make him sick and angry.

Before his thoughts could spiral, Harry woke up all at once. It was an odd thing to see. Harry didn’t exactly twitch or was perfectly still. His eyes had simply opened looking at the ceiling before flickering over to Sirius, head not moving.

“Err, good morning.” It came out more as a question than greeting. “Hungry?”

“Famished.” In a smooth motion he rolled to his feet, draping the blanket—now cloak over his shoulder, silver ornaments clasping it to his shoulders. It was transfiguration coupled and with there being no wand made it all the more amazing.

“How did you do that?”

“Runes.” He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing an array of tattoos, runes as small as fingerprints in neat white rows. Sirius moved closer. The flickering firelight made the writing look like it was dancing. “The Furtharks, herb, Latin, astronomy, and parsal runes.”

“Parsal?” He’d heard of the others, but wanted to clarify the one he hadn’t—Even if he already had an idea.

“Parsaltongue’s written form. I’m a parsalmouth.” That gave Sirius pause. Harry tapped his half-hidden scar. “It was borne to me by a curse,” his odd wording set Sirius on edge. “It’s mine now.”

Vogo apparated into the dining room, delivering two meals, English breakfasts. Sirius used the interruption to think about the implications of what Harry had said. “What,” he cleared his throat, “what else did you get from the curse?” The curse that was meant to kill him.

Harry took a few bites of his meal before answering. “Mo said that it’s a lot like _priori incantatum_. It shows me the spells Voldemort used. I’ve learned many of them and other things. She helped me unravel the information and put a mental block on it so that I’m not overwhelmed by a lifetime of spells.”

Sirius took a moment to process that. The wind was knocked out of him when he realized Harry must know at least one unforgivable curse. He was so young, but that wouldn’t stop the Ministry from sending him to Azkaban if he used an unforgivable in the heat of the moment. “You’ll have to be careful, Harry. Some of those spells can ruin your life,” _and the lives of others_ , he added mentally.

“I know. I was taught ethics before Mo let me see too many spells.” Harry paused, lifting his tea, but not drinking from it. “Voldemort could have been a great wizard.”

*

Augusta Longbottom was pleasant at best and vicious at worst. Sirius was one of the very few who got to see her good side, and that was only when he was lucky.

Augusta stepped out of the floo fire, her vulture hat back lit, making it look like the world’s ugliest phoenix. A beat later Neville appeared. Sirius caught him by the shoulders before he could fall and break his nose like he’d done last time. Neville whispered his thanks while blushing and backing up.

“Sirius.” Augusta nodded at him before eyeing her surroundings critically. Most her age and of similar pedigree did the same. He was just glad she didn’t throw insults like his mother did in these sorts of situations.

“Lady Augusta.” He gave a half bow before smiling at Neville. “Young sir.” Neville beamed at him.

Augusta let out a huff that Sirius knew meant she was pleased.

“Is Harry Potter really here? Can I meet him?” he asked eagerly. He knew Augusta would have rolled her eyes if it wasn’t improper. There was a slight smile on her lips though.

“Yes, he’s outside by the lake. You know the way.”

Neville hesitated, his brow creasing. “Do you think he’ll like me?” There it was, the self-confidence issues that Sirius and Augusta had worked so hard to overcome.

Sirius ruffled his hair. “Of course he will! You’ll be as close as brothers in no time!”

Neville brightened up and stood a bit straighter before running off.

Augusta gave Sirius a look that would be hard for most to read. It conveyed her gratitude, both for what he said and the active role he took in Neville’s life.

Sirius gave her a warm smile in return.

*

Neville hesitated for the second time in just as many minutes as he stood at the doorway to the backyard of Uncle Sirius’ home. He was almost sick to his stomach with nerves. He wished for the tenth time that Susan Bones had come too. She was really nice and didn’t make fun of him. If only all kids were like her—That Harry was nice. It didn’t help Neville’s confidence that he was wearing an outdated swimsuit.

He quietly walked towards the dock, staring at Harry whose back was to him. In the summer sun his dark skin seemed to glow. His hair was wild and went to just below his shoulders, like Uncle Sirius’. There were bobbles in his hair. As Neville got closer he could tell they were earth colored stones and bits of crystal woven into the braids that kept his hair out of his face. His loose hair was unembellished.

Harry turned before Neville could say hello. The words died on his lips. Molten gold eyes stared at him. For a moment Neville thought it was a trick of the light. It had to be because no human had slit pupils like a cat. Harry blinked and his pupils were normal and his irises were more honey than gold. “Neville, right?”

“Uhh, right. You’re Harry.” Neville tried to make himself less awkward as he spanned the distance between them, making sure not to trip on the slats of the dock. He was unsuccessful on both counts.

Neville squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge not to flail his arms and somehow push Harry off the dock. For the second time that day, Neville was caught. He blushed. “Sorr-sorry.” He tried to salvage the situation. “It’s nice to meet you.” Harry laughed, but it wasn’t a cruel thing, much to Neville’s relief. “Did you really live in the woods?” And just like that Neville had put his foot in his mouth like always. But Harry didn’t look offended.

“Yes, and I was also raised by werewolves.” Neville’s mouth went slack, his bottom lip quivering. Harry smiled. “I’m kidding!” He paused. “I only lived across from them.”

“Bloody hell,” Neville said before slapping a hand over his mouth. “Don’t tell Gran I said that!”

“You have my word.” Harry shifted slightly. Silence engulfed them.

“Are you excited to go to Hogwarts?” It was the first thing that popped into his mind.

“I don’t know if I want to go to Hogwarts yet. Sirius said it has a library, but the best bits are in the restricted section. What kind of schools restricts you from learning?”

That stumped Neville a right minute. “It has dark spell there.” That had to be the reason, it only made sense.

“A school that doesn’t teach is traditionally a bad thing. It feels like a paradox to me.”

“A pair-of-what?” Neville had not heard that word before. Harry had a weird way of talking. Or maybe that’s just how all wood people spoke? Woodland wizards? Wizards of the woods? Wild wizards? Neville wasn’t sure if there was a specific term.

“Don’t worry about it.” Harry glanced over at Neville’s shoulders. “Finally! Sirius is back!” Harry rolled his eyes. “He said I couldn’t swim without adult supervision. Load of bollocks, that is.” He huffed then looked back at Neville, smiling brightly. “Bet I can get more Water Flobberworms than you!” Harry shucked off his shirt and dove into the water with barely a splash.

Neville doubted he could win, but was willing to give it a try.

*

The ward walker, Alfie Allington, cost the Potters a pretty penny. But seeing even a glimpse of Harry was worth it. Though they hoped for more than just a glance.

Lily kept casting her eyes around, she had a white knuckled grip on Euphy’s pram. By her side James was just as tense, casting a powerful shield in case a violent ward was tripped. Allington worked on the wards, moving them around instead of destroying them which would risk alerting Sirius to what they were doing.

James had assured them that Sirius was busy with the werewolf case that had all of the DMLE working overtime. That was little comfort to Lily though. Sirius was from a long line of dark wizards. If he apparated he might attack without mercy. And no doubt there was at least a few nasty surprises in those wards. That was half the reason Allington was so expensive.

Lily flinched when James touched her arm. He dropped his hand from her like he’d been burned. “Sorry, Lily-flower.”

Lily took his free hand. “No, I’m sorry.” She’d said it countless times before, but it still felt inadequate. All of this was her fault. She had lost their son and hadn’t been strong enough to keep looking for him. She had caused James so much pain. She could see her effect on him even now—bags under his eyes, the restlessness that weighed on him because he couldn’t stand the whispers and outright anger that was ruthlessly directed at them.

A distance she didn’t know how to traverse—It was worse before they had Euphemia. He’d been a ghost trailing Lily’s every step. He’d sleep most of the day, barely eat, then go to the DMLE in the middle of the night to do paperwork.

But now they had another chance. Lily just hoped it didn’t lead to more heartbreak.

Allington made a strange noise pulling Lily out of her thoughts. “Should I continue?” His question confused her at first, before she realized Harry had come out of the house and passed through the protective wards.

She teared up. He was nearly the spitting image of James at that age, but with longer hair, a shade lighter skin, and his eyes—Lily took in a stunted breath—those were not the eyes she remembered. But there was a myriad of different reasons for that and she didn’t have the strength to contemplate them. She had to believe everything was alright. If she didn’t, her heart might shatter all over again.

“Harry,” she breathed out his name. He looked at her, unreadable and silent. “It’s me, your mum.” Lily locked the wheels of the pram. James was frozen beside her. Lily approached him like he was a wild animal that could bolt at any moment. “I know it’s been a very long time and that your dad and I made a lot of mistakes. We’re so sorry. All we want now is to know you and make up for our mistakes.” Lily rummaged through the large pockets of her slacks, pulling out the only connection she’d had with Harry after he’d disappeared, a swiss knife.

Harry peered at the knife. He was silent. It made Lily want to squirm. Finally, he walked towards them. He was unnaturally graceful. Lily didn’t want to contemplate why that was, or why he was tugging at the cuffs of his long sleeve shirt.

Harry took the knife out of Lily’s outstretched hand, not making skin contact. He examined it, opening the various blades, screwdriver, and corkscrew. “I regretted not taking this with me when I ran away.” His voice was flat, giving Lily chills. James tensed at her side. “I don’t know how I got it. I was too young to remember. I had used it to gut rats so that I could have something to eat.”

Lily shuddered. There was another apology on her lips, but James beat her to it. “We’re sorry, Harry. We had no idea the Dursleys would do that to you. If we’d known—”

“If you’d checked on me instead of just dropping me off like a stray at the pound you would have known.” His words were harsh, but without emotion. He pocketed the knife and walked over to the pram. “Sirius said you had another child. What’s her name?”

Lily’s throat tightened, “Euphemia—We always planned on having two children. She’s not your replacement,” she added hastily.

Harry didn’t respond, brushing Euphy’s red hair out of her face. The two-year-old was blessedly sleeping. “She looks like you and I look like him.” She gestured with his chin towards James.

“The Potter blood is strong on the male side,” James tried to joke. It fell flat.

Harry turned towards James, and Lily felt the pressure of his gaze leave her. “If you want to abandon another child, give her to me.”

James bodily flinched and Lily held back a pained cry. “The circumstances were different then,” James tried to explain. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had just tried to kill you. One of my best mates had betrayed us. You weren’t safe in the wizarding world.”

“I wasn’t safe in the muggle world either, now was I? You’re right. I wasn’t safe in the wizarding world, if you think it’s only Britain. I’ve met all sorts of wizards from different countries. None of them had even heard of me or Voldemort.” Lily flinched at the cursed name.

“We couldn’t risk it,” James said feebly. “Please, Harry, we’re your family. We’re your parents. We just want to get to know you and make up for lost time.”

Harry shook his head. “The people of Ant Hill are my family. Mo raised me. She’s my mother. Sirius is becoming family. He’s teaching me about the outside world and I’m going to Hogwarts soon. You two are strangers and mean next to nothing to me.”

Harry took a step away from them, the wards welcoming him into their arms while pushing them back.

Lily felt her heart shatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few chapters still saved up, but I've completely lost my inspiration. Please send me ideas if you can!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and his extended family~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all your support and ideas!

* * *

 

“Drama, Drama, Andromeda,” Sirius sung, a lilt in his voice. He had a glass of green fairy vodka in hand, leaning against his cousin. Ted was grinning, his cheeks tinged red.

Nymphadora, though she refused to acknowledge that name, rolled her eyes at her parents and uncle. It was her birthday, yet they were the ones getting sloshed. Though she could probably pinch a bottle later in the night.

Later, when she didn’t have to babysit Harry Bloody Potter. The kid was all sorts of weird, snooping through the kitchen cabinets then burying his nose in one of her parents’ healer books. Definitely a Ravenclaw if Tonks had ever seen one.

He wasn’t the only one she was going to have to babysit though. Her annoying little cousin would be arriving soon to see how the common people lived. Tonks didn’t get why Malfoy the elder did that. His wife, Narcissa, would have hated it, but she was five years dead and apparently he didn’t care about her opinion one wit.

At least two of Tonks’ friends were coming. Having a birthday mid-summer normally meant most of her friends were on holiday, but the Weasleys never went far and Penny, a fellow Hufflepuff, had just gotten back from Aruba.

She heard the floo blaze and hurried to the living room to see who’d arrived. She frowned. “Hello, Uncle Lucius.” She looked at the equally blond boy. “Cousin Draco.”

“Nymphadora, I can never tell if you’ve grown or just made yourself look taller,” Lucius said in his usual holy-than-thou voice. He held out a small green package wrapped in velvet green. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” She accepted the gift, her ears red in anger from him using that wretched name. “My parents and Uncle Sirius are in the kitchen,” _drinking themselves stupid_ , she mentally added on.

“Wonderful. Take care of Draco, won’t you?” He didn’t wait for a response as he made his way out, leaving the pair to stare at each other.

“One word about my house or clothes and I’ll hex you into tomorrow,” Tonks warned. She’d put up with his pompous rear enough as is. She wasn’t going to deal with it on her birthday. He glared at her. “Harry Potter is in the study. If you’re not too much of a wanker, you might even make a friend.” She watched him leave, trying not to grin. Hopefully those two nuisances would keep each other occupied.

Tonks went back to the kitchen to listen to the ‘adults’. Lucius had already joined in on the drinking.

“We nearly have him over the barrel,” Lucius said. His back was ramrod straight in his seat. Dromeda and Sirius were leaning against each other while her father, Ted, was slumped on the table. Give it a few more glasses and Lucius might pull the stick that was shoved up his ass out. Tonks took a seat at the table, but stayed silent. “He had a bit of capital when we moved to hire Lord Gaunt against his wishes, but after this newest move…” Lucius shook his head. “He has no respect for tradition or culture.”

“Allowing squibs to go to Hogwarts is a bold move,” Dromeda conceded. “Whatever is the point of it?”

“They do have more magic than muggles, darling,” Ted said. “Just not enough to do most wizarding things. With enough training they could make great potioneers.”

“I wouldn’t drink a potion made by a squib.” Lucius made an imperious noise and took a hearty drink from his glass.

“Better than killing them off. Ancient Blacks used to drown their children if they didn’t show any magic by the time they turned thirteen.” Sirius refilled his and Dromeda’s drinks. “They’re better off living with muggles.”

“They should be sterilized—” Lucius was met with an onslaught of disagreement. Tonks tensed up. “Just listen. We’ve seen what Muggles do to magicals. If the squib parent doesn’t know of their heritage or dies, then the little wizard or witch would be left at the mercy of the muggles. We all know what they did to Harry. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. We have to protect the next generation.”

“You’re such an extremist, Lucius. Maybe there should be a school just for squibs,” Sirius suggested.

“I like that idea,” Ted added, but was ignored.

“A school for orphans, you mean? No true wizarding family would openly claim a squib.”

“Lu-Lu’s right.” Dromeda was starting to slur. “But Sirius has the right idea of it. Having squibs at Hogwarts is just cruel. Remember poor Mr. Filch? He’s a miserable old bugger—not that a student ever treated him right a day in his life. It will be just the same for any other squibs Albus brings in, worse, since they’ll be children.”

The quartet descended into argument. Tonks used their distraction to steal a bottle of Firewhisky and leave.

She checked on the two brats in the study. Harry was sitting at the desk, reading a thick book—and taking notes. What a Ravenclaw. Draco was pouting by the window, his face ruddy and arms crossed over his chest. Clearly the little bugger had put his foot in his mouth again.

Tonks hid the Firewhisky in her room then waited for Charlie and Penny to arrive. She toyed with the idea of opening the gift from Uncle Lucius while she waited, but refrained. She’d open all her presents at once.

Charlie was the first one to arrive. He gave her a big hug. He breathed in deeply, but before he could get a word out Tonks said, “If it’s about your bloody dragons I don’t want to hear it.”

He clutched his heart. “Tonks, just because you can make yourself look pretty on the outside doesn’t mean you’re pretty on the inside.”

“Still prettier than you, Freckles.”

Charlie snorted, “As if I haven’t heard that one before.” He shoved a wrapped gift at her that was clearly a book. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. The whole family is here, plus Harry Bloody Potter.”

“Da said that he’s a Black now. The Wizengmont voted and made it official. Bad business in my opinion.”

Tonks vaguely remembered something like that being in the papers, but hadn’t paid it much mind.

The pair plopped down on the couch and shared stories on how their summer was going until Penny showed up. They listened dutifully as she gushed about Aruba. Not long after they were called to the kitchen to eat birthday cake and open presents. Charlie got into a spirited discussion about dragons with Harry that Tonks easily ignored. After the official party Tonks and her best mates went upstairs to drink and have a real party.

*

Dumbledore ignited another Howler before it could go off. He sighed and went back over the planned curriculum for the squib classes. It was less than a month before school started up. Professor Discor was threatening to quit, Lord Gaunt had invaded Hogwarts to take over the position of Potion Master from Slughorn, and Albus could hardly go a minute without an owl popping in. He was tempted to erect a shield around his office.

Albus felt like vultures were flying above him, but he refused to stand down. Perhaps he hadn’t been as smooth as he’d meant to. The majority of the Governors were pureblooded, but—

Minerva’s cat patronus scratched at his door. He opened it with a flick of his wand. “Albus, the Board of Governors are meeting again. They request your presence immediately.” The patronus disappeared into a wisp once its message was delivered.

Albus sighed. He didn’t think he’d have to pay the price for this decision so soon.

He straightened his red robe with green starbursts. He grabbed a pinch of floo powder. “Governor’s Association.” The green fire enveloped him then he was in the echoing halls that were almost as old as Hogwarts. And twice as dusty. He sneezed like a kitten and glanced around. Thankfully no one was around to hear him. It was an embarrassing trait he’d done his best to hide over the years.

By the length of the candles he could tell the Board of Governors had been convening for hours. They hadn’t summoned him to debate an issue, no they’d make a decision and he was only here to follow their will. But he wasn’t one to follow blindly.

He entered the boardroom, “My friends.” The looks he received were not kind, at best indifferent. At worst—Malfoy—was hostile. Albus was unaffected.

“Are we to understand that you wish to have the disgraced Lady Potter as the one to run your squib pet-project?” Malfoy’s voice was dry.

“Disgraced is too strong of a word.” Albus was met with more than one scoff. “Lily Potter is in a unique position as having been raised by muggles and living as a witch. She can help the squibs navigate the two worlds and find their own place.” Albus stroked his beard. “She is the perfect fit.”

“Professor Dumbledore,” Lady Longbottom said, “are the Potters the ones that came up with this idea?” Before he could speak she continued. “That this is all just a ploy for Lily Potter to have access to her estranged son, Harry Black?”

“Relationships between staff and students is strictly professional,” he assured them. And if Lily built a bridge with young Harry then all the better.

Lady Longbottom’s lips twisted up. It gave Albus an ill feeling. He was never sure how she regarded him.

Lord Greengrass, who was traditional neutral in all things spoke up, “If that is a fact then you should have no problem with Lord Black taking the recently vacated position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Ah, so Professor Discor had quit afterall.

“That is an esteemed position—”

“Which is perfect for such an esteemed member of our society, a pureblood and Auror Second Class.” Albus wasn’t sure why Malfoy was on Sirius’ side. They had been on opposite sides during the war. It only solidified in Albus’ mind that Sirius was a bad fit for young Harry.

“Hmm, yes. He would be a fitting professor. He will have to propose a curriculum before school begins. The book lists for the year have already been sent out. He’ll have to work with that material.”

“That will be no obstacle.” Lady Longbottom waved her hand in dismissal.

He gave a half bow and turned to leave. He smiled to himself. Thankfully, they had yet to learn he’d made James Potter the new flying instructor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to regain some of my inspiration once I finish the Symbiote!Tony/Loki story that's been twisting around in my head!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more world building ;)

* * *

 

Arabella Figgs hadn’t had the happiest of lives. True, up until her eighth birthday she’d been a loved and a cherished child, but on her ninth birthday… She hadn’t shown any signs of being a proper witch. For a year she was put in one dangerous situation after another. Her collection of scars and bad memories were testament to that.

On her tenth birthday she ran away from home and gave up the last name Lestrange. She wandered Britain, eating from garbage bins and doing the odd job to survive. When she was twelve an orphanage took her in. The six years that followed were not pleasant. Her mind was of two worlds, magical and muggle. She felt like she didn’t fit in anywhere, because she didn’t. She’d seen the wonders of being magical and living with muggles just depressed her.

With that in mind she found a magical community, Blanksville, in Glasgo. She found a job as a shop clerk in a magical creatures store. She also met her first part-cat part-kneazel there. They were fascinating creatures and she saved up to buy one.

Her quite life was upended again when she met Silas Moreau. Their romance was a whirlwind that swept her off her feet. He didn’t care that she was a squib or nearly penniless. Not even a year later they were married and ready to start a family. They moved to France and his family home. They had a little girl, Morea Moreau. She warmed Arabella’s heart with her little upturned nose and dark eyes. She inherited Arabella’s floppy hair and Silas’s dark skin. She was perfection swaddled up in one little package.

But as fast as Arabella and Silas fell in love, they fell out of it. And he was far from kind without love bolstering his heart.

She was a squib and he had no problem of using that against her. No one spoke in her defense when he claimed a squib would only be a bad influence on Morea. The French courts didn’t even deliberate. They gave Silas full custody and deported Arabella with a warning that if she ever tried to enter France or get in contact with the Moreau family that she’d be executed.

Arabella’s last name changed again, back to Figgs. Her old job was waiting for her in Blanksville. She put her heart and soul into raising those creatures and finding good homes for them. She was rewarded for her dedication, given the position of proprietor of the newly opened branch of the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley.

Heart ache abounded when she saw her younger brother once and he didn’t recognize Arabella. She hid in the back of the store when he came in to purchase pets for his two sons.

A bitterness festered then, one she had no outlet for. She focused all her energy on breeding the best pets and making sure her branch was the most profitable. She may be a squib, but that didn’t mean she lacked business savvy.

As she grew older she settled into a routine. But then He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came into power—and the Lestranges sided with him. Arabella was the one who sought out Professor Dumbledore to offer her assistance. She was a squib, but before they’d been certain of that her parents had her study the family spells. Dumbledore—Albus accepted her help readily, giving her a place in The Order of the Phoenix. She gave him all the information she had and she used the profits from her store to help fund the group.

She gained and lost friends during those dark times. Her heart went out to the Longbottoms, but there was nothing she could do for their son. Albus gave her another purpose then. She sold her shop and went to watch over Harry Potter as he lived with his relatives. During that time she still bred kneazel-cat blends. Hers were the best in the world and each kitten sold for a hefty price. And maybe that’s why she didn’t really take notice of the abuse. She knew things weren’t perfect with the Dursleys, but she never imagined…

She’d failed Harry and his parents. As sadness had done to her once before, she focused on work, breeding kittens. She accumulated a nice fortune, but had nothing to do with it. After some soul searching she donated it to orphanages, both muggle and magical.

Arabella believed that was enough to keep herself happy, and it was, until her daughter Morea showed up out of the blue one evening. And Morea wasn’t alone. In her wake was a little girl with pigtails and a nervous disposition.

Morea explained stiffly that her father, Silas, had told her that Arabella was dead. She found out she was alive nearly a decade ago when she was visiting Britain and saw Arabella’s picture in the newspaper for winning a cat show. She didn’t seek her out then though. Silas had raised her to regard squibs as blights on the wizarding community. Morea admitted that she was only visiting now for selfish reasons. She’d heard that squibs were being accepted into Hogwarts. Her daughter, Annette, was a squib. Morea wanted her daughter to have a good life, but that clashed with her belief system.

So with no argument on either side Arabella was given full custody of Anette. The little girl cried as her mother left with barely a goodbye and steel in her eyes.

The pair didn’t have much time to bond, but Arabella wasn’t sure how to give her a good life. Yes, Hogwarts was no open to squibs, but she had no doubt that they’d be ridiculed and bullied there. After much discussion Annette decided she wanted to attend Hogwarts.

Now the pair was in Gringotts.

“Wowzer,” Annette, Ann as she preferred, said, her French accent heavy. She was marveling at Arabella’s fortune. “You’re rich.” She looked at Arabella with wide eyes. “Grandmama, how did you do it? Mother says that squibs are leeches, but…” She gestured around.

Arabella’s heart broke a little more. “The world of magic might not like us, but they’re willing to turn a blind eye if we’re useful.” It was cruel, and not really a lesson she wanted to teach Ann, but it was the truth. “You’ll make a place for yourself. There will be hardship, but I believe in you,” _even if your parents don’t_. Ann’s hazel eyes became glassy. Arabella gave her a hug. “You have to be strong. It will be hard, but I believe in you.”

“Thank you, grandmama.”

After gathering plenty of coin, they were off to buy first year supplies. Arabella was carrying the modified list for squibs.

Ann held her hand, both nervous and excited. Arabella smiled softly down at her.

“Arabella Figgs, as I live and breathe,” a familiar voice called out from behind her. She grinned and turned to face Sirius. “You up and disappeared after the war. Where have you been?”

The answer got stuck in her throat when she saw who was accompanying him, Harry Potter—No, Harry Black. Arabella looked for any recognition on his face, but saw none. It was a relief, but didn’t quell her guilt.

“Oh, you know I’m just an old bitty breeding my lovely cats.” She caught a glimmer in Harry’s odd eyes. She noted with a start that they were no longer green.

Sirius guaffed. “Harry and I were just off to meet some friends and do first year shopping. Would you like to join us? Lady Longbottom would be,” he paused, “overjoyed, if such a thing is possible, to hear tales of her son and Alice.”

“Neville will like them too,” Harry added. He was staring at her.

“That sounds lovely. This is my granddaughter, Ann. She’s,” Arabella paused, not knowing if she should tell them she was a squib. “She’s going to Hogwarts too.”

Ann jutted her chin up. “I’m a squib,” she declared.

Sirius was taken aback, but Harry showed no reaction. “A few neighbors I had were squibs,” Harry said. “They’re nice people.” He looked up at Sirius. “We should hurry. Madam Bones will scold you for being late.”

Sirius stood a bit straighter. “Right, okay. We’re going to the creamery. Would you ladies like to join us?”

“Ice cream?” Ann asked. She looked up at Arabella with wide eyes.

Arabella couldn’t refuse her, not that she wanted to. “I haven’t had froggy-toffy ice cream in a while. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” She received a smile in response.

Harry led the way, clearly having been to the creamery more than once. Arabella hung back with Sirius.

“I’m going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts,” he said, surprising her. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you, Sirius.” Arabella wanted to say more, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how she was supposed to keep an eye on Harry and had failed. Was sending Ann to Hogwarts the best course?

At the creamery Sirius and Arabella were quick to choose their flavors while the children insisted on trying every type. Madam Bones was already there. Sirius greeted her with a kiss, making the little girl by her make a noise of disgust. Sirius laughed.

They exchanged pleasantries. Soon after Lady Longbottom along with her grandson joined them. Lady Longbottom’s face was unreadable as Arabella introduced herself and Ann. It became completely closed off though when she mentioned she had been in the Order of the Phoenix with Frank and Alice.

Neville asked her a plethora of questions about his parents. Arabella was happy to answer them.

After eating they continued shopping. Susan Bones was happily chatting with Ann. Arabella was glad she was already making friends. Sirius and Madam Bones, Amelia, were holding hands. Neville was hanging on Arabella’s every word while Lady Longbottom trailed behind them. And Harry…Harry was looking around like he would be attacked at any moment.

Sirius fell back to have a whispered argument with Lady Longbottom. The only piece Arabella heard was Sirius saying, “If you don’t buy him one, I will.”

As they continued on Ann started to deflate. Arabella only realized why when they were standing in front of Olivanders.

Arabella and Ann stood outside of the store as the others went in—save Harry.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to stay with us,” she assured him.

Harry shook his head, the crystals in his hair catching the light. “I don’t want a wand. They bind magic. I could never do that to my magic.” Harry lifted his hand, light was dancing between his fingers. “Besides, I don’t need one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that's interested, I finished my Symbiote!Tony Stark/Loki fic, and it's amazing!! (If I may say so myself)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I totally messed up the timeline and made Charlie a year younger fyi

Susan Bones was downright giddy. She was going to Hogwarts today. It was the first day of the rest of her life!

She barely took a bite between breathes as she rambled on about Hogwarts to Harry. He’d spent the night since Lord Sirius had to go to Hogwarts early to start his new position as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Susan was glad she’d have a professor she could go to to ask questions without being nervous.

“Everyone in my family goes to Hufflepuff. I probs will too. Or maybe Gryffindor. Just as long as I don’t get sorted into Slytherin. Your mom and dad were—” Susan cut herself off. “Lord Sirius was in Gryffindor so you’ll probs be sorted there. Though I guess you did spend most of your life without him. Did you go to school before? Were there different houses there?”

“Susan, breathe.” Aunt Amelia nudged her under the table.

Susan took in a big gulp of air, not having realized she was getting light headed.

Harry was staring at her with big, weird eyes. He wasn’t looking down at his plate as he cut up sausage. “We didn’t have a school. But we were tutored together outside. We were all different ages. There wasn’t any houses.”

“Aren’t you excited?” she asked, trying not to vibrate in her seat.

“I don’t know.”

Susan’s nose scrunched up. “How do you not know if you’re excited?”

Harry moved the eggs on his plate around with his fork. “Sirius said that a lot of the professors aren’t going to be happy with me not having a wand.”

“But you’re the Boy-Who-Lived. They’re not going to kick you out or something.”

“Yeah, but they might take house points from me and make my housemates mad at me.”

Susan bit her lips. She hadn’t thought of that. “Why don’t you just get a wand then?” It was the obvious solution.

“In Ant Hill we’re taught how to do magic without wands. Wands are just a crutch.”

“Don’t go around saying that, Harry,” Aunt Amelia spoke up. “That goes against much of the Ministry Doctrine. You’ll be learning about the goblin wars this year and how hard they fought for the right to wield a wand. You’re disparaging a whole race when you say their beliefs are wrong.” Susan didn’t know what the word disparaging meant, but Harry nodded so he must have. She’d look it up later—if she remembered to.

Glenn pitter-pattered into the room. Susan cooed at her new cat. It was ¼ kneazle and was a gift from Ms. Figgs. She’d offered one to each of them when they were done shopping. Harry and Neville turned her down, but Susan and Ann didn’t.

After parting ways with the Blacks and Longbottoms they floo-ed to Ms. Figgs’ house. Amelia had marveled at all the muggle things, but her attention had been quickly pulled away by adorable kittens. She and Ann chose from the same litter.

Glenn hopped into her lap and began purring. Susan tried to secret him a piece of sausage, but Aunt Amelia gave her a warning look.

Susan pretended not to understand.

Later on, after checking then double checking her things they were floo-ing to the train. She gave her aunt a kiss and a hasty goodbye before tugging at Harry’s sleeve to hurry up so that they could get on the train. He good-naturedly didn’t resist.

By rare luck, the first compartment they opened had Neville in it.

Neville had his toad, Trevor, in his hand. He gave them a wide smile. “It’s good to see you guys.” Susan could see past his smile though. He was nervous.

Susan plopped down beside him. “Hogwarts is going to be great. We’re going to make a ton of friends.” She patted him on the shoulder. Harry sat across from them, looking out the window. He perked up. Susan barely noticed it. He stood and opened the window. “Ann, we’re in compartment seven,” he called out.

Susan heard Ann say something, but from her position and the din of other people she couldn’t really make it out.

Before she could ask, the compartment door opened. “There you are, Harry,” a blond boy said, stepping into the compartment. He glanced around and sneered before smoothing his face out.

“Draco.” Harry nodded at him, neither pleasantly or with malice. Just simply polite. Susan thought it made him look a great deal older.

“Father tells me that we are to be friends.”

Susan was pretty sure that’s not how you make friends, but Harry gestured for Draco to sit next to him, so maybe she was wrong.

“This is Susan Bones and Neville Longbottom, heir presumptive of House Longbottom.”

Draco ignored her in favor of Neville. “Heir Longbottom.” He bowed in his seat. “I’m Draco Malfoy, heir presumptive of House Malfoy.”

“Err, well met, Heir Malfoy.” Neville’s face became blotchy with blush as he bowed. Malfoy didn’t even give her a glance.

Susan didn’t get all this title nonsense. She knew her aunt was proud of her title as head of the DMLE, but she’d earned that. Neville and Draco had been born with those titles and Harry got his through adoption. Susan would rather earn a title herself than just being given one.

Draco was showing off his wand to Harry, going on about its properties. All Susan could hear was a lot of bragging for another thing that had been given to him, rather than earned. Not that Susan had done anything to earn hers either, but she was going to do great things.

The compartment door opened once again. It was Ann. There was another girl following her spouting off facts to the point that Ann looked overwhelmed.

“Ann!” Susan said loudly while getting up to give her a hug. The other girl gave pause.

Ann whispered thank you to Susan in her French accent that Susan loved.

“Hi,” the bushy haired girl said, suddenly looking shy. “I’m Hermione Granger.” She shifted on her feet. “I’m sorry, I never got your name.”

“Ann Figgs.”

“I’ve never heard of noble families with the last name Figgs or Granger,” Malfoy announced, putting a sour taste in everyone’s mouth.

“Considering you haven’t given your name, you shouldn’t talk,” Hermione looked him up and down and didn’t seem satisfied with what she saw.

Malfoy began to bluster indignantly, but Harry was quick to step in. “I know Ann from Diagon Alley, we all went shopping together. I trust her judge of character.” That shut up Malfoy. Children jostled through the small hallway, many pausing to look at Harry. “You two might as well come in.”

Ann sat next to Malfoy (sacrificing herself), while Hermione closed the compartment door and sat by Susan.

“I’m Susan Bones,” she introduced herself, taking charge. “This is Neville Longbottom and Harry Black.” She contemplated not introducing Malfoy since he was being a prat, but she’d feel bad if she excluded him. “And this is Draco Malfoy. We’re all first years.”

“Wonderful! I’m looking forward to Potions class. It’s too bad Professor Slughorn retired. I heard—” Hermione was off, boggling Susan’s mind.

“Say, Harry,” Malfoy interrupted. Hermione went on, focused on Ann while glancing at Susan every few seconds. Susan tried listening to her, but Malfoy was more interesting. “Do you think Uncle Sirius will give us extra house points?”

“He wouldn’t,” Susan said. “My Aunt Amelia wouldn’t date someone who wasn’t fair.”

“Uncle Sirius—Professor Black,” Neville corrected himself, “will be great. He’s been teaching me since I was a sprog.”

“You all seem to know each other,” Hermione said, her eyes flicking around.

“Harry’s blood mother is also a professor, though of a dubious new course.” The look on Malfoy’s face made it clear what he thought of that.

Hermione didn’t pick up on his tone. “What new course? Is it open to first years?”

Malfoy went to say something, but Harry cut him off, “Leave it, Draco.”

Malfoy puffed up. “Will you enjoy seeing the woman who abandoned you everyday?” His words were cutting.

Susan held her breath.

Harry didn’t even flinch. “She’s a stranger to me.”

Susan was starting to feel very uncomfortable and she wasn’t the only one. Ann was staring down at her lap and Hermione had fallen silent.

“I want to get into Gryffindor,” Neville said, thankfully kicking off a new conversation. Susan let out a breath of relief. Hermione started listing of the founders of Hogwarts and factoids about them.

*

Ron was agitated. His mum and da had kept him on the platform too long. They’d insisted on embarrassing him with kisses and tear filled hugs, as if they were never going to see him again. By the time they were done nearly all the compartments were full. He ended up sitting by his older brothers, Percy and Charlie.

He felt like a loser as Charlie talked to his friends and Percy lectured him about the rules. He was also nervous about wrestling the troll to see which house he’d get into. The Weasleys were always Gryffindors, but he’d never hear the end of it from Fred and George if he ended up somewhere else. He shuddered. They would be merciless if he ended up in Slytherin.

Percy broke off his tangent, catching Ron’s attention. “It shows a disregard for family values. The Potters may have messed up, but The-Boy-Who-Lived is still their son.”

“You’re only saying that because you haven’t met Harry. He’s the weirdest eleven-year-old I ever met,” Charlie said. “He talks like a grown up and isn’t awkward—”

“Unlike our ickle Ron.” Ron hadn’t noticed the terrible twosome come into the compartment.

“Go away you two,” Tonks, Charlie’s friend said. She was frowning, but her eyes were fierce. “Or I’ll hang you out of the train by your ears.”

The pair skittered away with guaffs and smiles.

Penny, Charlie’s other friend, tittered.

“We talked about dragons for an hour. He really knows his stuff.”

Ron saw Percy nearly roll his eyes. He wished he had, then he wouldn’t look like such a prat.

“It always comes back to dragons with you,” Penny teased him.

“Mother and father did the right thing by voting to keep Harry Potter with his real parents. Think about the repercussions and precedence of the ruling. It’s only one step away from muggle-borns being taken away from their parents and given to a wizarding family.”

“Oh shove off, Perce. That will never happen.”

“Not with the moderates in control, but they won’t always be.” Percy let out a huff.

“You always see the worst in every situation.” Penny shifted in her seat to get a better view of Percy. She waggled her finger at him. “The Wizengmont ruled that parents who abandoned their child had no right to them. That’s a positive step towards getting children out of situations where their parents might be hurting them.”

Ron was seriously getting sick of all their politics talks. He was with his parents on this. The Potters had made a mistake. They’d lost their son, but got a second chance only for some dark wizard to take him.

The whole situation also made Ron uncomfortable. His family was dangerously close to being dirt poor. His da had a well paying job, but there was seven kids to feed and kit. If they got too poor would someone try to take them away, split them up?

His family was all he had, and he was already off to a poor start here. He’d been hoping to at least make one friend on the ride to Hogwarts.

Ron tried not to let his worries show. It was easy since the older kids were ignoring him.

He felt downtrodden as the train came to a stop. Charlie gave him a pat on the back and told him everything would be alright before they parted ways.

Half the crowd of first years were nervous, making Ron feel a bit better about how he was feeling. The other half was excited, whispering to friends they’d already made.

They moved to the docks. He bit his lip as boats were filled by small groups of friends. He shuffled towards an empty boat and was joined a minute later by a chubby kid, a blond, and a lump of a boy.

“Hand me down clothes and red hair, must be a Weasley,” the blond said. Ron’s face grew hot with blush. “And another wizard with tattered clothes.” He sneered in disgust and stood. “Come on, Crabbe. There has to be better company than this.”

As the blond went to leave Ron rocked the boat, nearly causing the blond to fall out. The lump, Crabbe, grabbed Ron by the collar of his shirt.

“None ‘er that, boys,” Hagrid, their guide, called out.

“Really, Malfoy?” a girl said while passing him. If he responded, Ron didn’t hear it. She got in Ron’s boat along with a bushy haired girl who wouldn’t. shut. up. He didn’t give a lick about the height of the Astronomy Tower.

Ron seemed to have the worst luck. The girls ignored him and the pudgy boy had a sour look on his face. Ron didn’t know what to do in this situation. He’d grown up in the Burrow where everyone already knew him. He’d only had two real neighbors. Cedric Diggory pretty much ignored him in favor of playing Quidditch with Ron’s older brothers. There was also Luna Lovegrove, but she was weird and the few times they spoke Ron had gotten lost in the first few minutes.

In an unhappy haze the boats landed and he followed a severe looking witch. He hoped he didn’t have any classes with her this year. He was relived when he found out he didn’t actually have to wrestle a troll. He should have known the twins were messing with him. His mind got stuck in a loop worrying about getting into Gryffindor as other students were sorted.

“Harry Potter,” Professor McGonagall called out pulling Ron out of his thoughts. The boy looked—before Ron could finish that thought there was a squealing noise and the chubby boy from earlier tackled Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I'm completely obsessed writing my soul stone!Tony Stark fic!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see ;) Unfortunately I'm not really back.

As Sirius walked through Hogsmeade he felt a bittersweet nostalgia. The Marauders had spent plenty of time there, planning mischief, ogling girls, and drinking firewhisky in the Shrieking Shack. But those times were marred by all that happened after graduation: Peter’s betrayal, James abandoning his son to muggles, and Remus running away with his tail between his legs. But now Sirius was making new and better memories. He had Harry and Amelia now. He was also in place to protect Neville, who Sirius had the feeling was going to be bullied. He could also keep an eye on Susan, she was the only relative Amelia had left. Amelia had told him that she worried her house would be too quiet with her gone. Sirius assured her that he’d visit often. 

More than bittersweet memories, Lily Potter had the audacity to follow Harry to Hogwarts. Sirius had no doubt that the squib courses had been her idea. She’d been one of Dumbledore’s favorites and ate up her idea, despite the disruption the courses would cause. 

Sirius was against bringing squibs to Hogwarts. It just seemed cruel to him. They were forced to be around people who could do something they never could. Another aspect that he’d only realized that morning when he dropped Harry off at Amelia’s was that if any squib was sorted into Slytherin, then they’d constantly be harassed. Sirius didn’t know Thomas Gaunt, the new head of Slytherin, but he doubted he’d do much to curtail the bullying. 

That thought gave Sirius pause. Professor McGonagall had been his head of house and she’d barely been able to stop the Marauders from bully Snivelous—Severus—and from what Sirius heard, he’d ended up disappearing two years ago.

The wards of Hogwarts let him in after only a nudge on his magic. The place hadn’t changed one bit—for better or worse. 

He arrived just in time for the first faculty meeting of the year. He greeted all the professors, save Lily. She was giving him a hard glare. He noticed that no one sat beside her. Apparently he wasn’t the only one with reservations about her squib pet-project. Her eyes were only for him though, burning green. He ignored her, instead covertly eyeing the other new professor, Lord Gaunt. Sirius remembered keenly that he was one of the few that voted for the Potters to keep Harry. He didn’t know his reasoning, but wasn’t about to start up a conversation just yet. 

Dumbledore introduced the new professors, even though most already knew Sirius and Lily. A couple of the older professors gushed about how good it was to have ‘Tom’ back. He’d apparently been a good student. 

After the brief meeting, which was Dumbledore giving the same speech he gave to students at the start of every year, they were dismissed. Sirius went to his suite. It was beside his two classrooms. He unshrunk his things and made the cold space hospitable, including a houseplant that didn’t need sunlight curtesy of Amelia. Despite it needing no upkeep, Sirius was certain he’d kill it.

He then reviewed the DADA textbook—something he never did as a student. He’d already read it once, but didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of the students. 

Before he knew it, he was heading to the great hall, ready to see all the students and find out which house Harry would be sorted into. He hoped for Gryffindor, but didn’t let his expectations show. Harry was not like him, James, or Lily. He was unique. Sirius knew he could forge his own path in any of the houses. 

The Sorting Hat sung its new tune and the ceremony began. He searched out Harry and saw him standing next to Neville, whispering to him. He was glad the two boys got along. Neville needed friends and Harry needed to broaden his horizons. 

Susan and Ann were both sorted into Hufflepuff. He figured that was a good thing. Ann would already have a friend there and the Hufflepuffs tended not to be as mean towards outsiders as the other houses were. 

Sirius shot a look at Dumbledore then Lily when Mcgonagall went past the letter B in sorting, disregarded the fact that Harry’s last name was Black, no longer Potter. Lily steadfastly ignored him, but he could see the hint of a smile on her lips—as if she’d won something.

Sirius felt his heart-rate pick up when it was close to Harry’s turn. His grin was almost painful as he was called up—only for a piglette of a boy to tackle him. 

Sirius stood with his wand at the ready, but Dumbledore had been faster, separating the pair. Harry stood up, brushing the blood from his broken nose with the back of his hand. He didn’t look scared, only perplexed. The piglette, on the other hand was shouting all sorts of things, “You killed my da! I’ll kill you! You ruined everything!” 

Dumbledore cast a silencing spell on him, but the boy raged on as he floated harmlessly in the air. Sirius went to Harry’s side to see if he was okay. He gave him the brush off, having set and healed his own nose. Sirius patted the top of Harry’s head and went back to his seat. Lily was standing awkwardly, looking between Harry and the other boy.

“My, what a lively bunch of first years we have,” Dumbledore said in a soft manner that Sirius used to find endearing. “Let us finish the sorting and then we can have a sit down, my boy.” 

The piglette ran out of steam. McGonagall let him down. He looked close to tears as he stomped back to the other unsorted first years. They gave him a wide berth. 

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said while gesturing towards the sorting hat. 

“My name is Bashmu Harry Black, if you’d please,” he said with a dry politeness that made Sirius grin. Lily shifted in her seat and stared down at her empty plate. 

Harry placed the hat on his head and the whole room held its breath. An uneasy feeling settled in Sirius’ gut as grueling minutes passed, then finally, “Gryffindor!”

The red and gold table cheered loudly. Harry shot Sirius a grin before going to join his new house mates. 

Sirius trained his eyes back on the piglette. He was staring at his feet with his arms crossed over his chest. Finally, McGonagall put a name to the face, “Dudley Quincy.”

Lily took in a high-pitched gasp, drawing Sirius’ attention to her. She had a hand over her mouth. Sirius didn’t understand her reaction, but noticed Dumbledore had a furrow between his brow. 

The piglette dawned the Sorting Hat. After a good ten seconds it yelled, “Gryffindor!” There was no cheering this time, just whispers. 

Dudley went to the table, sitting as far away from Harry as possible, focusing on the wall by their table. Harry stared at Dudley’s, as unreadable as always. Sirius was just glad that he didn’t seem ruffled or scared. 

The sorting ended and the feast began. Throughout it he kept an eye on Dudley. At the end of the feast, McGonagall took Dudley aside. Sirius gave a brief wave to Harry before following McGonagall. He wasn’t happy to see Lily doing the same. 

They entered Dumbledore’s office. The headmaster didn’t comment on Lily and Sirius joining them uninvited. 

“My boy, I understand you have a problem with young Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore began. 

“Mr. Black,” Sirius interrupted. “He said himself that that’s his name.” 

Dumbledore looked over his half-moon glasses at him, but turned back to the piglette, “Would you care to explain yourself.”

“What does it matter?” Dudley said. “I heard he’s some celebrity amongst you freaks.” 

“Professor,” Lily cut in, far more polite than when Sirius had done the same. “If I’m not mistaken this is Dudley Dursley, my nephew.” 

Dudley spit at her feet, startling everyone else in the room. “You ruined my life! Harry made a giant snake kill my da! And then mum—” he cut himself off. 

“Something happened to Petunia?” There was a flutter of worry in Lily’s voice that Sirius thought was undeserving. Did she forget what that woman did to Harry? 

“Whatever. I don’t want to be in Gryfin-dork if it means I have to be near that freak.”

“Unfortunately, that is not an option,” McGonagall said, stepping forward. “And if you spit one more time or attack someone else you’ll have house points taken away and detention,” she warned. “This is a new chapter in your life, Mr. Quincy. I expect you to do better moving forward. As to the name-calling, it is unbecoming and I won’t have any of it. All students are equal here. You will show respect and be respected in return.” Dudley glared up at her, but didn’t say anything. “This way.” He followed in her wake, stomping. 

“That’s it? He’s not even getting detention?” Sirius asked. “He just tried to murder my son!” 

“Your son?” Lily shrieked. “He is not—”

“Now, now, you two,” Dumbledore drawled out, “we are all adults here.”

“Then I hope you start acting like it and not call Harry by the wrong name.” He glanced between Lily and Dumbledore, fire in his eyes. “It was ruled by the Wizengmont that he’s my son now. If you have any respect for our judicial system then you’d accept that.”

“The Wizengmont does not always make the correct decision,” Dumbledore began, but Sirius wasn’t hearing any of it. 

“The Board of Governors already isn’t happy with you. Lord Malfoy and Lady Longbottom are my close friends. Don’t give me a reason to suggest they should find a replacement for you.” 

“I can’t believe you’d threaten the headmaster!” Lily nearly shouted, hand on her wand. Dumbledore was silent. 

Sirius stood a bit taller. “I’ve made my point. Goodnight.” 

*

Percy Weasley always had a clear picture going forward since the first day his father took him to the Ministry when his mother had been pregnant with Fred and George, and she’d already had her hands full with Bill and Charlie. He’d seen the wonders of bureaucracy and had wanted to not only be part of it, but be its head. He was willing to work his tail off in order to become the Minister of Magic.

But a single conversation with his mother derailed those thoughts and fogged his way going forward. It was a given that Bill would take over as Lord Weasley when (hopefully a very long time from now) their father died. What hadn’t been so obvious to him was what it meant that Charlie was supposed to change his last name when he reached the age of majority to Prewett, since their mother was legally a Weasley. Their mother had been the last living Prewett after her two brothers (twins like Fred and George) had died in the Wizarding War. But Charlie had refused since he started at Gryffindor, much to their mother’s bewilderment. She’d finally accepted his decision when he’d been guaranteed an apprenticeship at some dragon reserve, after he graduated. 

With Percy being the next in line he could claim the title of Lord Prewett. That would garner him lots of respect and automatically give him a seat on the Wizengmont, but… he’d always wanted to be on the legislative side of things. The Wizengmont was judicial and the two branches didn’t mix. 

He could make a real difference right away, but the Wizengmont was a reactive branch, only acting after the fact. The Ministry created the law, proactively trying to stop misbehavior. 

Another factor he had to keep in mind was that if he didn’t take the title, then it would be left to Fred. It might finally push the older of the twins into growing up, but he highly doubted that. Fred would just make a mockery of the whole thing and weaken whatever position Percy had made for himself in the Ministry. 

There were sharp footsteps in the distance that Percy recognized. He stood at his full height and greeted McGonagall as she entered. “Mr. Weasley, perfect timing as always.” Percy spotted the first year, Quincy, behind her pouting. “Escort Mr. Quincy to his living quarters. You are to spend the night there and make sure there’s no funny business.” She gave Quincy a warning look. 

“Yes, professor.” He nodded respectfully at her. He waited for her to leave before speaking to the first year, “This way, Quincy.”

“My name is Dudley,” he grumbled while following in Percy’s wake. 

“Mr. Dudley then. I am a prefect. You will refer to me as Prefect Weasley. I’m sure Professor McGonagall gave you a proper tongue lashing, so I won’t go over every little thing you did wrong within less than an hour of being at Hogwarts. Also, be aware that my younger brother, Ron Weasley, is in your year and has no problem reporting to me if there’s any funny business,” he lied—but only to keep order so it really didn’t count. 

Percy knocked on the first-year’s dorm room door. He didn’t wait for a response before entering. He spotted Ron right away, his bright red hair easy to see in the dimly lit room. There were seven beds. The other boys had staked their claims, leaving the bed closest to the door on the right free. 

“Mr. Weasley,” he called to his little brother, being as professional as possible. Ron grumbled something under his breath that Percy had no doubt was a curse. 

“What is it?” he asked while closing his trunk, his new tie sticking out the edge of it. 

Percy refrained from scolding him about it. “I’m pairing you up with young Mr. Dudley. You are to help him with all things within reason.” 

“Whut? You can’t do that!” Ron glanced around the room. “That’s social suicide!” None of the other boys were looking their way. 

“As a Weasley it is your job to help guide—”

“Oh, shove off! Fred and George never listen to you and I won’t either.” Ron threw his pillow at him. With a simple spell, Percy caught the pillow mid-air and settled it back on Ron’s bed. 

“I will be spending the night here to make sure order is maintained. Please be aware that I am capable and will take points away for any tomfoolery.”

“Kill me now,” Ron said while flopping on his bed, burying his face in his pillow. 

Percy shook his head at his brother’s childishness. He summoned a chair from the common room and some reading on potions. He’d never heard of Professor Gaunt before. He would be prepared whether he was a lenient teacher or a properly strict one. 

Despite the book his eyes were drawn to Harry Potter or Harry Black, as some have decided to call him. At first Percy wasn’t sure what he was doing. It looked like he was poking at the bed curtains at random, but as he continued to watch his eyes grew wider. He was tracing runes onto the curtains—ones that even Percy with his advanced and ever growing knowledge didn’t recognize. What’s more is that he was doing it without a wand. Yes, Harry was definitely someone he’d have to keep his eyes on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ron keeps getting the short end of the stick :p


End file.
